


Rash Decisions

by Tolleren



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Elemental Magic, Gen, Magic Revealed, Prophecies get a new meaning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 04:15:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3313574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tolleren/pseuds/Tolleren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin comes home after visiting Ealdor and finds Arthur and the knights in the middle of looking for Emrys. Rash decisions need to be made when one tired warlock reacts in frustration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dusk

The young, dark haired man looked at the grand castle. The white stones shined in the last light of sunset, making it look almost otherworldly. It was a castle which bards would sing songs about, and parents would whisper the legends to their children in the evening. Even thousands of years after the last war had been fought and it had fallen, it still lived on; for its beauty could never be matched, and its rulers forever changed history.

Surrounding the castle were large dark woods, with housed all kinds of animals, groups of bandits and even a few hidden magical creatures. All which made it difficult for a normal traveller to travel through them alone, and one of the reasons for the knights always patrolled them in groups.

 _Good I’m far from ‘normal’ then_ the man smiled to himself, and continued his travel along the dusty main road towards Camelot. He hoped he would be able to walk the last half mile before the guards closed the gates for the night; he didn’t fancy sleeping outside for one more night, when he was so close to his goal.

He didn’t have anything against sleeping under the stars, but the ground wasn’t all that comfortable and his back still ached from last night were he had been so unfortunate to sleeping on a tree root.

He hurried past a few travellers and traders on their way home to the nearby villages after a long day of selling or buying goods on the markets place. A few had a horse or a wagon, but most had just a little bag slung over their shoulder, much like he had done.

He managed to get to the gates just as they were about to be closed. Luckily the guards recognised him, and let him in with a role of their eyes, very well knowing his habits. He flashed him a big smile in thanks and half ran up towards the citadel.

The most people had, like the travellers, begun to head home, and so it was easy for him to walk through the markets place and finally arriving in the courtyard. He tilted his head back to look at the towers, and drunk in the sight of his home. He couldn’t believe he had only left two weeks ago, it felt like years had gone by.

He walked up the stairs up towards the physician chambers. He was tired and his feet felt much heavier than usually, and the staircase seemed many times longer than he remembered. The only thing getting him to continue was the promise of a warm meal, and if not soft then at least fairly comfortable bed.

That’s why he felt more than a little disappointed when he knocked on the door, and after not getting a response opening the door, only to see that the chambers were empty.

He wondered if Gaius maybe had gone about on one of his rounds, and decided to stop a maid. “Sorry, do you know where the Court Physician is?” He flashed her a charming smile making her blush slightly. “I think the king called a Round Table-meeting.” She answered shyly. He nodded in thanks, before again dragging his tired feet down the corridor, all the while cursing the prat for calling a meeting at this late hour.

After he had married Guinevere, Arthur had finally made the decision to finally rule like he seemed fit, and not like his father had wanted him to. One of his first decisions had been to replace the table in the Council Chambers with a round one, like the one they had sat around when Morgana took over the castle the first time. Gwaine had then called them “The Knights of the Round Table” and the name had stuck.

Through every one of Arthur’s knights sat around the table, when he called a “Round Table-meeting” it still only included the original members, an therefor assumed Merlin that the meeting would be held in the king’s and queen’s chambers instead of the actual Council Chamber.

He finally arriving at the door leading into Arthur’s chambers and opened them without even bothering to knock.

His stomach growled and his eyes threated to close, so he thought it was much in his right to be a little annoyed when he caught sight of a mop of golden hair in the other end of the room. He was standing by the fireplace beside Guinevere with Gaius standing a little to the left, and the knights sitting on various chairs around in the room, or in Gwaine’s case; sitting with the legs dangling over the side of the bed.

They all looked up as he stumbled through the door. “Ah, Merlin, just in time” the king nodded and turned back to discuss something with Leon. Gaius caught his eyes and gave him a look telling him that something had happened, and that he wasn’t going to like it.

Frowning Merlin moved over to Gwaine and sat down beside him while still keeping his locked on the king’s back. “What happened?”

Gwaine chuckled beside him, but he could hear the edge to it that just made his frown deepen. This really wasn’t the right time for a new threat. Couldn’t it have waited for him to get just one full night of sleep? – Apparently not.

“A sorcerer ‘visited’ princes yesterday, weird bloke that fellow, not your typical evil sorcerer. He tried to attack with a small fireball, but seemingly passed out from exhaustion before even managing to throw it, and is now kept in the dungeons and hasn’t woken yet …” the knight explained.

Merlin raised an eyebrow at that. It was rather common these days for such attacks, not something ‘big’ enough to call a meeting for, and not at all dangerous enough to make Gaius worry.

Most time Merlin managed to deal with these magicians, either by defeating theme or managing to talk them into leaving like he did with Gilli. This guy hadn’t even had the power to control his spell, how could he have been any different?

He got his answer when Gwaine continued.

“What has princes jumping around like this; is what he told before attacking.” The knight rolled his eyes, before continuing a little more excited, “You know, he started with the typical chatter about revenge and persecution, and princes told him that he couldn’t blame all what his father did on him, and that even when magic was still banned, they weren’t directly hunted. The man just called him a hypocrite and said something about, _if Emrys didn’t soon finish his ‘job’ and brought magic back, then ‘they’ would do it; but by different means_.” By the last sentence the knight changed his voice, probably trying to mimic how the sorcerer had sounded.

But Merlin didn’t think about it. Instead he gave a high pitched yelp, “ _WHAT_?!” effectively closing any other conversations in the room and shifting their attentions on him. He could feel his face heat up a little with shame and agitation, the only thing he could think was, _No. This isn’t happening! Now is_ not _the right time!_ His breath left him in small gasps and his eyes didn’t seem to be able to focus on anything. This had to have to be a dream, no a nightmare. This just couldn’t be real! After all there hiding, of acting from the shadows without anyone (well, nearly) not even Morgana finding out, and then this random sorcerer (if you could even call him that) would be the one to reveal him.

He was brought back by the king’s sarcastic voice. “Thank you, _Mer_ lin, for enlighten us with your thoughts on the matter. Now, if you would be so kind to allow the rest of us to actually find a _solution_?”

The king ignored the heated glare from his manservant, and turned towards Gaius instead. “So, Gaius, can you tell us anything about this ‘Emrys’?” they all looked him hopefully. Gaius met Merlin’s panicked eyes, before starting a little hesitantly, “Well, Emrys is known to most of the magical community through the druid’s prophecies ...”

“Prophecies?” Leon asked, frowning, but Merlin could see the curiosity in his eyes. His first reaction was shock. Of all the knights he had thought Leon would be the one being against magic the most, as he was the only one of the knights serving under Uther, but then Merlin remembered that Leon’s life had been saved by druids. Maybe the knight’s view had changed a little after that?

“Yes …” the physician shot Merlin another nervous look. “The druids have always spoken of a powerful warlock. He is said to bring magic back and unite the lands of Albion under the rule of The Once and Future king. Not much is known about them other than they are said to have a bound stronger than blood.”

“So you don’t know who Emrys is?” the king asked while running a hand through his hair.

“For all I know they could just be a myth, my lord”

“But this sorcerer truly thinks this Emrys exist, and that he is in Camelot. He wouldn’t have spoken this threat in the throneroom if he didn’t think Emrys would hear it.” Leon spoke up a little unsure, but Arthur nodded in agreement and the knight relaxed again.

“Leon is right. If this person who calls himself Emrys is the person the druids speak of is not the most important thing right now. The thing is that a powerful sorcerer is right now in Camelot, hiding right under our noses, and he must be found!”

All the knights got determined glint in their eyes, ready to protect the castle with their life, but before Arthur could give the orders, Gaius spoke up once again. This time more calm, through Merlin could see that his hand still shook a little.

“Maybe it would be better to leave him alone, my lord”

Arthur looked as shocked as the others at that, but his expression quickly changed to puzzled. “And why would that be?”

“Emrys is also called ‘the protector’, as his only job is to guide and protect. This man thinks he is protecting Camelot, so maybe it would be better to let him do his job?”

The king sighed. “But you _could_ be wrong and he could be a treat, and I can’t live with the thought that I could endanger the kingdom and its people. I can’t take the risk.”

It was clear that the king wouldn’t back down.

For a moment Merlin was tempted to let him go. He could trick the king into following wrong leads; maybe, if he looked long enough he would give up? Or Merlin could even use his ‘Dragoon’ disguise again? - Morgana already knew him as such anyway … But who was he really trying to fool?

He knew his friend. He knew how proud and stubborn he could be; if he had first set it as his mission to find out who Emrys was, then he wouldn’t stop before he got his answer. He would follow the tracks, how small and seemingly unimportant they may see, or he would slip up, or someone else would slip of; soon or later Arthur _would_ find out that it all would lead back to him.

The realisation left him numb.

He was thrown back into reality when the king moved a step forwards towards the door.

In the next second Merlin made his decision. In that moment he would probably called it the only right thing he could do, later he would probably blame the lack of sleep, food, and the fact that he was _still_ very annoyed at the prat for denying him it.

So for the second time that evening Merlin interrupted with a shout. “ _STOP_!” It had the desired effect as they all again turned their attention back to him, and Arthur paused mid-step. The king looked even more irritated than before, but even he didn’t have the time to react before his manservant had stood up and run towards the door.

This time Merlin didn’t have enough control of his emotion to even think about being embarrassed with his outburst, not that he thought that he should have been in the first place.

“It’s me. I’m Emrys” the words left his mouth before he could stop them. His heart felt like it tried to break out of his chest and his harsh breathing drowned out all other sounds. He felt disconnected to his body and more alive than he had ever felt before at the same time, but still his words didn’t show any of his tumult. They were said calmly and in voice that couldn’t possibly be his.

Then he let his eyes glow gold and an equally golden dragon, not unlike the one on the crest of Camelot, appeared over their heads, bathing the room in it golden light.

It all happened so quickly that the door had already snapped shut and the footstep nearly faded before just one of the persons left in the room had even managed to close their mouth.

“Well, that was some surprise … Anyone got any ale now we found the answer?”

“Well, that was some surprise … Anyone got any ale now we found the answer?”


	2. Night

“Well, that was some surprise … Anyone got any ale now we found the answer?”

Leon, the only knight not staring open-mouthed at the door, shot Gwaine a glare, but the ale-loving knight just flashed him a big grin.

His comment through, had been enough to get the king out of his chocked state. He quickly snapped his mouth shut, quickly composing himself and began to act the king once more. His face had changed to an unreadable expression as he barked at the knights, “Find him and bring him here! Make sure to alert the guards and get them to close the gates, but don’t tell them the reason!”

He turned around to the physician while the knights hurried out of the room, “I will speak with you later.”

Gaius gave him a look saying ‘be _very_ careful right now’, but like the knights left the room.

Arthur turned around, only to find out that apparently not _all_ the knights had heeded his command, as Gwaine was staring at him with crossed arms, his smile had been replaced by a serious expression that was really rare for him.

“If you believe for one moment I will let you harm him –“

“Just leave Gwaine” Arthur interrupted with a sigh.

Surprisingly the knight did, but not before sending the king a glare, making it clear that he wasn’t going because he would complete his orders, but to help his friend; regardless if he was breaking more than one law in the meanwhile.

Arthur wasn’t surprised of this. He had always known that Gwaine only helped taking Camelot back for the first time, because Merlin was his friend and needed his help. Gwaine would always choose the servant over him, and it hadn’t bothered him before; because he knew Merlin was loyal to him.

Now through …

Now he didn’t know what to think. All seemed to betray him; Morgause, Morgana, Agravaine, Guinevere, Lancelot, even his own father had lied to him by not telling him about Morgan being his sister … And now this ... Why? Was he doomed to lose all he cared about? Was there something wrong with him? – There had to be; why else would they all do it?

And he always was so blind! He never wanted to see the truth. Every time something suspicious happened he would turn a blind eye; hoping that it wasn’t what he thought. That he was only being paranoid, but of course that was just wishful thinking.

But still; Merlin? (Or ‘Emrys’ or whatever his name really was) – His ser- no friend, brother even. Merlin; who was always knew what to say when he needed it most, always rode into danger even if it looked like certain death. Merlin; who was ridicules selfless and loyal to a point of complete madness. The person who called him prat, and unlike most people, wasn’t afraid to tell him if he acted like one. Merlin; who was one of the only persons to treat him like an equal; like a person, not a king.

He couldn’t believe that it had all been an act, but it was, right?

He had always known that there was something more to his friend than what first met the eye, that he was keeping secrets. He had known it since they fought for the first time in the markets-place; back when they were both young and stupid.

He never would have thought his secret would be something like this.

Suddenly he remembered their conversation all those years ago, he had just (he had to admit) arrogantly told him he could take the boy down with one blow, but instead of backing off or being scared; Merlin had just told him confidently that ‘he could take him down with far less than that’.

Had he already betrayed him back then? Or was magic he somehow learned it together with Morgana. Did they work together? – No, that couldn’t be right; if he had, then he would have revealed himself at the same time as her, instead of encourage him to fight back.

Why would he do that? What could he _possible_ hope to gain by supporting him, the king of the kingdom that would want him dead?

Was he really that stupid … Or was he really loyal to him?

Arthur dared not to hope; because it would be so much harder on him if he was wrong. Again.

This one thought was the most important of the thousands that were running around in his head at the moment, and also the reason for the knights’ orders. He wanted Merlin himself to answer. He wanted the truth.

Even if it could crush him.

He nearly jumped when he felt a hand on his arm. He opened his eyes, wondering when he had closed them, and looked down into the warm eyes of his wife. He was surprised to find only worry in them; not anger or betrayal.

She seemed so much calmer than him.

Right now he felt so many different emotions that he couldn’t even mention them all. There was deep sorrow, hot anger (mostly towards Merlin, but also himself for being so blind), wonder, fear, hate and an all-consuming feeling of betrayal that stabbed his heart over and over again, pierced him until he didn’t know why he was still standing, and not lying dead on the ground.

Most of all he was just very confused.

He hadn’t noticed that he had been lost in his thoughts once again while staring at her, before she squeezed his shoulder reassuringly; calming him down enough to think a little more clearly.

“What do you plan to do?” she asked softly, not a hint of accusation in her gaze.

He knew what she meant. She knew what he was doing right now, but wanted to know what he was planning to do afterwards.

He was just about to answer; when he realised he didn’t have one.

Magic had always meant death, regardless of age, gender and what it had been used for, either by fire or beheading. That law still stood.

He tried to imagine it and knew in that second he would never be able to order Merlin’s death. Maybe he could just banish him? – But that would be nearly the same; he would still have to live without his friend.

But he couldn’t just forgive him either; even if he really _was_ loyal to him. He still had magic and magic corrupted _and_ he had lied to him.

He ran his hand through his hair and sighed again, before deciding on the truth, “I don’t know.”

She just gave him an understanding smile, “I know you will do the right thing; as long as you follow your heart.”

He managed to give a little smile back, “I hope so.”

* * *

 

 

Merlin ran down the corridor, well aware that it wouldn’t be long before the knights (and probably the guards too) would be after him.

Had he really just done this? Had really, after so many years of hiding, just shouted that he was Emrys and done magic before the king and his friends?

This could very well be one of his regular nightmares, it wasn’t so different from some of them he had had, but even in his dreams acted that stupid and rash.

Before he registered anything he had instinctive moved towards the physician’s chambers, but now he stopped abruptly; this would be the first place they would look.

He turned down a corridor and ran another familiar way; one he hadn’t really used in many years.

The dungeons were cold and dark, the only light coming from the torches hanging on the walls, but they were few and far between. Under Arthur’s rule there weren’t many prisoners here, as he had lowered the taxes enough that not many starved and had to steal, and all got a fair trial; so no innocent were condemned either.

One of the first cells was inhabited through. The feeling of magic coming from the man sitting in the corner got the warlock to stop for a moment. He was first confused before it dawned that this must be the sorcerer who got him in this situation in the first place, and his eyes hardened.

“This is your fault” he mumbled accusingly, even if he deep down knew it had technically been his own choice. The prisoner looked up and spat at his feet, but Merlin had already run deeper into the dungeons.

Soon he arrived at the stairs down to the now empty cave were the dragon had been held prisoner in twenty-two years. He remembered how often he had sought the wise creature’s council when he had just arrived in Camelot.

There had happened so much since then. In the beginning he had been naïve and innocent, like a puppy; opening the eyes to see the world for the first time. He had long since lost that innocence, even if he now thought that he may still have been slightly naïve to think that he would be able to keep his secrets hidden.

The cave seemed even bigger than last time he was there, now when it lacked the magical-presence that had been Kilgharrah. He looked around. Why had he come down here? It had been the first place he had thought about when he couldn’t be in his old chambers, but this was also a dead end. Even if it would take some time; the soldiers would look down here sooner or later.

Unless …

The dragon had used another, bigger entrance to get in and out of the cave. It had been up by the roof somewhere. He wondered if he could come out that way too.

Careful not to slip, he stepped down the stairs he had used when he freed the dragon, until he came to the end. From that one he could only move on a small ledge while he clung to the cave wall.

He slowly moved towards were he had seen the dragon fly towards when he had left the cave, and soon saw the night sky over him, sadly there was about fifty meter up, and no stairs which meant he would have to climb.

He had only climbed on such a steep wall once, when he had to infiltrate a castle together with Arthur. He pushed the memory away and instead focused on moving and always finding the next place his feet and grip with his hands.

It was a relief to finally feel the fresh air in his lungs again, and he took greedily a few deep breath before being forced to run when he heard shouting guards.

The cave entrance had left him in the outskirts of the woods, mush too close for comfort.

It felt like hours later when he finally exhausted collapsed against a big oak tree. The roots dug into his back, but he had no energy left to move now the adrenaline had disappeared.

He pressed his knees against his chest and rested his head on them. Slowly his breathing calmed down, and he could again hear something else than his own heart beating. Not that there was much to listen to. The soldiers’ shouts had long silenced and now only the night-song of the trees could be heard.

A light but cold wind blew, slowly cooling him down and he began to shiver. Not that he noticed; he was already lost in the nightmare that was his thoughts.

What should he do now? He had just left his home, friends and family back. He had no food and water nor blankets or wood to start a fire. Hell, he didn’t even know where he was, so he couldn’t even find the way towards Ealdor, not that he had the energy to walk anywhere in the moment.

He wondered what Gaius would say if he could see him. He wondered what the old man thought of the whole saturation. He would probably tell Merlin that he was an idiot. He laughed a little at that, a hollow, raspy sound. Then he choked down a sob. Arthur had called him an idiot too. The prat had rarely called him anything else.

He really _was_ an idiot! What had he _done_? He had been _happy_ , and he had just ruined it all! They would never trust him again. They likely all hated him now, and would kill him the moment they found him.

He felt tears well up into his eyes, but he didn’t do anything to stop them as they slowly soaked his trousers.

His head hurt from lack of sleep and his stomach growled from hunger, but he couldn’t do anything about it; just like he couldn’t turn back time; even if it was his greatest wish.

And so he cried; really _wept_ for the first time in years. Last time had been when he had lost Freya and Balinor. The thought made him just sob harder.

The hours flowed together and time lost its meaning. He had no idea for how long it lasted, only that he sat there long after his tears had run dry.

Until much later, when the first sunrays found their way through the trees, a twig snapped disturbing the hollow emptiness that was now his mind.

He blinked, surprised of the light, before his vision cleared and he stared directly into a pair of emerald eyes.

“Hello Merlin” Morgana smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Criticism is always welcome :)
> 
> Beta: BlackBandit111 - This story was first posted on fanfiction.net
> 
> I don't own the show Merlin and this story is not written to gain any profit.


	3. Dawn

Arthur rode quietly through the forest. The knights had searched for hours, but there were no tracks to follow, no clues to give them the right direction. _But that’s to expect; he has probably just used magic to transport himself to safety. Just like Morgause did with Morgana …_ No. He couldn’t think like that. He had to look forward instead of looking back into the past.

He couldn’t think of the past, or he would compare Merlin’s betrayal to Morganas’ and he would end up making the same mistake; to not trying to understand; to not give a chance to explain. He would give Merlin that, and then maybe, _maybe_ , things would go different and all wouldn’t end like last time.

He didn’t think he would be able to take another betrayal.

It had only been a few hours since his manservant returned from his trip to visit his mother in Ealdor, but it had felt like the world had been turned upside down more than ones.

He had originally hoped he could have just stayed in the castle. He was still very confused and beside himself in the moment, and he wouldn’t appear weak before his men. He should have known that the knights wouldn’t comment, they were his friends; brothers in arms. They would lay down their lives for him anytime, and right now they were just as lost as him.

Well, other than Gwaine, who was shifting between sending him warning glares and looking worried between the trees in search of his lost friend. Arthur should probably have felt angry or at least annoyed, but instead he was slightly ashamed. The knight had every right to worry, Arthur was the king of Camelot after all; a kingdom were magic was punished by death.

Arthur couldn’t help but wonder if that had been the reason had turned towards magic. His friend Will from Ealdor had been a sorcerer too, even Gaius had practise the art before the purge, maybe he thought they hadn’t been treated right? Or maybe he had studied together with Will and chosen not to tell Arthur because he was scared … There were so many possibilities.

The king sighed. Why did things like this always happen in Camelot?

They all rode for a few more minutes before a twig snapping disturbed the silence of the upcoming dawn.

Arthur quickly lifted his right arm, a silence sign to stop, even if it wasn’t really needed as all the knights had already done it.

They all heard as something (or someone) quietly moved around where they had stopped. The knights all rested their hands on their swords, ready in the second the possible danger showed itself.

Slowly the very quiet rushing of the leaves quiet down completely; only leaving empty silence behind. No one dared to breathe.

As Arthur couldn’t hold his breath anymore, he quickly realised it, before dismounting and drawing his sword as quietly as possible. The knights all followed. The king and Gwaine took the lead, while the others were right at their heels.

They followed the stranger’s barely visible trail until they arrived at a small clearing, were they stopped so quickly that the knights behind them nearly sent them sprawling face down in the dirt. Luckily they had more balance than a certain servant, and managed to catch themselves in time.

They looked confused at their king and brother in arms as the two in the front stood wide-eyed and gaping; frozen in shock, but they probably didn’t look much better when they looked for themselves.

In the clearing sat the lost servant-turned sorcerer, but he wasn’t alone; before him stood a smirking Morgana.

The king didn’t really know what to do. His first instinct was to run out, grab his servant and get the hell out of there, but then again; what if Merlin was really working with Morgana?

He erased the thought as quickly as it came when he looked closer at his friend.

Merlin wore a blank mask as he stared up in the face of the witch, but his eyes betrayed his surprise. Worse was that it didn’t look like the man would have enough strength to stand, let alone defend himself against a powerful sorceress. _The idiot probably didn’t even sleep at all …. Much like yourself._ The king grimaced.

That was the moment the witch chose to make the first move. “Hello Merlin” the witch half sneered half purred. The warlock just continued to stare at her, before trying to say something Arthur didn’t catch at all.

Now _he_ would have to step in.

* * *

 

 

Merlin’s sluggish and tired mind tried hard to comprehend what exactly was happening. First of all; it was nearly morning, which meant he had gone a whole night without sleep. Two; he wasn’t alone anymore as someone was staring down at him. Three; that someone was a smirking Morgana.

He blinked, but when Morgana didn’t disappear he had to face that it sadly hadn’t been a dream.

Even in his state he could tell that his odds weren’t _that_ great right now.

He was about to open his mouth to say something, anything to make up for his lack of strength, to stand tall even if he faced death itself, but found that he didn’t really care.

He had lived for Arthur, and now that he couldn’t anymore, he had nothing to live for. He didn’t even think of trying to prevent what Morgana had in store for him; it was so much easier to just give up. Why fight when you had nothing to win?

“You’re not going to greet your good old friend, _Mer_ lin?” The witch sneered, spitting out his name in a bad imitation of the king. “Cat got your tongue?” She continued to taunt him, “Well, we have to do something about that aren’t we?”

“Morgana?” He croaked. Or, he tried to, as the only thing coming out of his raw throat was “Mgn?”

He cleared his arching throat and tried again, and this time managed to croak, “Wha’ _ar’_ you doin’?

The witch smirked evilly at him; the predictor judging its prey, wondering how to strike the killing blow.

Finally she seemed satisfied and began to chant, making Merlin close his eyes. The warlock sighed. _This is for the best._ He would rather die like this, than being dragged back to Camelot and burned on a pyre while all his former friends watched with hate and betrayal shining in their eyes.

To say he was shocked when a yell interrupted Morgana’s spell would be an understatement.

When he saw who it was his expression would have had a blind man laughing (well, mostly because of the choked noise he made which sounded like something between a bird, a pig and a griffin with hiccup … Not a very beautiful sound.)

The king had thrown himself into the clearing with his sword drawn and ready to kill. For a moment Merlin was sure he would stab him, but the king had his eyes locked at the High Priestess.

Morgana looked just as surprised as Merlin, and only just managed to step out of the way mere seconds before the sword would have run her through. The king was thrown a little off balance when he didn’t hit his target; enough time for the witch to knock Excalibur out of his hand, and leaving him standing defenceless.

“I did wonder where you was, dear brother. Dogs always follow their masters’ tail after all.” Morgana sneered. Now that she had composed herself, she once again looked every bit like the powerful witch she was.

For a moment Merlin forgot the event the day before and could only curse the clotpole’s naivety. Only Arthur would think he could go against a powerful Magic-user with only a sword (even if it was a magical one, and he didn’t even know that). He may be the finest swordsman in all the five kingdoms, and no normal man would have a chance against him (maybe with the exception of the Knights of the Round Table), but when it came to _fighting_ magic the king was nearly as blind as Uther had been.

That had been the reason for why Merlin always had been by his side. He protected the other site of the coin from everything magical (and sometimes just he just gave a helping hand in general), he fulfilled his destiny while helping the king creating his own.

They were each other’s halves, and would never truly whole; never truly alive, without each other, as Merlin had just showed moments before.

The moment Morgana knocked the sword out of Arthur’s hand the knights had gone into action. Now they stepped forward in a circle, surrounding her from all sides. They lasted a little longer, but soon they found themselves on their backs, just as weapon-less as their king.

_They are all here._ Merlin realised. Were they here to hunt him down? But then; why did they first charge _after_ Morgana showed herself, and why not just let her finish him off? Were they so obsessed with watching him burn or – _No!_ He couldn’t effort to think like that, and it wasn’t the right time either.

Merlin used a second to decide what to do next; and coming to the conclusion that it couldn’t get any worse (the king couldn’t execute him twice after all); threw the witch across the clearing without bothering to even utter a spell.

The few seconds he had used had been enough for Morgana to get her breath back, and now she stood a few meters in front of him with a completely unreadable expression. It made Merlin wish he could shrink back and disappear, but his feet had seemingly frozen to the ground.

Then the witch exploded.

“YOU!” she yelled. Her eyes flashed gold and several trees were set on fire. Then her expression turned into ice once more and hissed; “I will make you burn, _traitor_!” If the forest hadn’t gone completely silent at that point, no one would have been able to hear it.

Then she began to fire spell after spell at the warlock, who in his weakened state had a very difficult time blocking or avoiding them. Each spell were faster and more powerful than the previous, and soon his brow was dripping with sweat and his jacked had got more than one hole burned into it. The few attacks he managed were so weak that Morgana barely let her eyes flash when she countered them. Her smirk grew while he was slowly forced him backwards, right until he had his back against a three.

He _knew_ that he was more powerful than her; but her hate and anger fuelled her power, while his own emptiness and lack of emotions at the time were weakening his.

He wanted to feel something, anything! But it was like the last night had drained him from any feelings possible, even the pain from his wounds didn’t feel as bad as he was sure they should have.

Merlin took a deep breath and prepared another attack, but found that he didn’t have the strength anymore. Instead his legs buckled and he collapsed in a boneless heap besides the roots with a groan.

The knights and the king, who before had hold themselves in the background so they weren’t caught in the crossfire, began to close in on them. They were careful not to make a single sound that would reveal them, as none of them fancied to get thrown across the clearing by an angry witch.

This time Morgana didn’t take her time to gloat and instead just held up her right hand up towards him. As she slowly closed her hand, he could feel his windpipe do the same and he soon was slowly chocking. He coughed ones, and then let his mouth stay open in a hopeless attempt to draw fresh air in.

His throat began to burn, and his head hurt, but Morgana continued to let him choke. His vision began to get blurred, and he had a strange feeling of traveling back in time; back to the day when the roles were reserved and Morgana had been the one choking on the ground.

The world began to turn slowly grey and small white spots appeared. He couldn’t hear anything from the outside-world anymore; only the ringing in his head. Just as he was about to black out, he saw the tiniest flash of silver and red, before a greater flash of green took over.

The pressure on his throat disappeared, and his senses returned to him slowly. First he used all his energy to draw in air, even as his raw throat burned so much that tears he didn’t think could exist, rolled down his cheeks. Then suddenly sounds returned, and he was nearly overwhelmed with the volume of it. Someone; probably more than one, were shouting so high he couldn’t make out the words.

He opened his eyes (again; when did he close them?), and all he could see was chaos. The air was grey from the smoking threes, and red cloaks were running around before him. Morgana was laughing madly to the left, sending knights flying as they attacked, but it all didn’t matter as he saw something lying down on the grass only a few meters away from him.

Or rather, someone; Arthur.

The warlock forced his body from the ground, but didn’t even come half way up before collapsing again. Instead he chose to slowly drag himself forwards, using his arms more than his hurting legs. Luckily no one seemed to notice him; they were all more concerned about the king, the fires or the witch.

Finally he was beside his king. He looked once at Sir Leon who stared blankly in his direction, Merlin didn’t think he actually _saw_ him, before quickly looking down and focused all his attention in reaching a shaking hand towards the king’s neck.

He waited.

And waited.

He blinked once.

Still nothing.

Then the dam seemed to break. Wave after wave of emotions rolled over him, through him, drowning him; until he shook so much he couldn’t even keep his hand on Arthur anymore. He threw his head back and screamed, the yell slowly morphing into a kind of roar not unlike a dragon’s. A shockwave of pure power was created and flung friend and foe across the clearing, leaving warlock and king alone in the middle.

_The king was dead._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Criticism is always welcome :)
> 
> Beta: BlackBandit111 - This story was first posted on fanfiction.net
> 
> I don't own the show Merlin and this story is not written to gain any profit.


	4. Day

Everything was all too quiet after that. All the sounds of battle had died down to a ringing silence, only the sounds of the warlock’s hard breathing could be heard. All energy had left him as he slumped over his still friend and soul brother, and broke down with a sob.

This couldn’t be happening! It wasn’t supposed to! It just _wasn’t right_! Did destiny mean nothing? Had he fought and lost so much for nothing? Was all his work just one big failure? Why had Arthur even thrown himself before him? – Because, Merlin realised, that was what had happened.

_The half cannot truly hate what makes it whole._ *

That had been what Kilgharrah had told him so long ago, right at the beginning when he too had doubted destiny, but he had forgotten the old dragon’s words; until now.

He had been right. Arthur hadn’t hated him. He had probably felt betrayed and angry, and with good reason; but he had set those feelings aside so he could help him; and now Merlin couldn’t even thank him for it. It felt like his soul had been ripped out of his body, torn into small pieces, and then placed back cracked and with a big and important piece missing; the piece that was Arthur.

A gasp broke his grieving and he snapped his head towards his king’s face, a tiny new hope forming; like a little flower in a dead forest. Sadly, that flower died too when he saw that Arthur’s appearance hadn’t changed at all. The king lay as still and lifeless on the ground, as he had when Merlin first reached him.

Another tear made it down his face, as he began to check on his other friends with his eyes. He hadn’t even come halfway through the knights when an invisible force knocked him back down on the ground. He looked up at the slowly dawning sky, a little confused to how he ended there.

He tried to sit up, but let out a groan when the pain from his injuries flared up. He had only just time to clear his vision before he had to jump for his life.

Merlin just managed to roll out of the way in the last second before the spell would have hit him in the head. He nearly cried out from the pain shooting through his body at the sudden movement. He turned around so he was on his hands and knees before looking up at his enemy. I should have been a vulnerable position, but his eyes burned with a blue fire that made him look every bit as dangerous and powerful that he truly was.

This was her fault! He wasn’t there when his friend needed help, but _she_ had killed him in the first place! It always came down to here. She was the one trying to take Camelot; to destroy all what he had fought for, all what he loved and lived for, and now she would succeed. _She had already succeeded_ , a voice whispered in his head, but he didn’t listen. There had to be a way to make this right once more! There just had to!

As he felt his anger built up (Not hate, never hate; she had been his friend once, and the memory of what she had been, made him unable to ever hate _her_ ; even if he hated what she had become with his whole being), his thoughts were racing around in his head trying to find a solution. When she had needed him, he had given up before even really trying; had thought she was better off without him. He wouldn’t give up on Arthur too! Screw everything else, _even destiny_ , he just wanted his friend; his _brother_ back! _Dam_ the consequences!

He knew he wouldn’t be able to live without him.

He shouted a spell, his eyes flashed and magic-flames formed themselves as a golden spear, which went flying towards Morgana. Her eyes widened as she was taken by surprise of the amount of power behind the spell. She managed to create a shield, but a second too late, and some of the flames burned her hands and making her sneer angrily.

The two creations of magic stood before each other. Darkness was staring at the light, and the light shone right back; so alike and still they couldn’t be any more different. It had always come down to choices, they had both made bad and good ones at that; but this time none of them wanted to make the next.

Instead they just stood there and waited for the other to make the next move.

The witch was nearly shaking with anger and energy, while the warlock stood calmly and let his emotions and instinct fill him to the brim.

Then, like there had been some kind of signal, they both attacked with all their powers. Blue and green light collided in a mighty crash which shook the very ground under their feet, making them both lose their balance. Where the spells had collided a massive ball of power was created, the magic swirled around faster and faster, until a few strands shot outwards and it all exploded.

Never, since the day magic had been created, had there been relished so much energy at once in the mortal world. There was more than any magic-user or magical creature could ever hope to poses, even more than what was currently flowing as a great hot ball in the middle of the planet. It could have shattered the veil between the mortal world and Avalon itself; even have altered time itself.

But; that wasn’t fates choice.

It was neither the witch nor the warlock’s destinies to _destroy_ , but build, and even if they would never understand it fully; at that moment they had _created_ a new world. The dragon may have told that Morgana would unite with Mordred and “destroy” Albion, but that wasn’t the complete truth, the exact words from the prophecy were:

_Dhá thaobh den chur i gcrích beidh siad bhailiú ar an shards le chéile an méid a bhí uair amháin iomláine, agus a thabhairt síocháin leis dhéantar a fhiach agus an gortaithe. Beidh an dorchadas ardóidh ón taobh istigh, bheidh agus, sa ceartais mícheart treoraithe, chuid déanta agus déan an titim ar an órga._

**_Two sides of one complete will gather the shards together of what was once whole, and bring peace to the hunted and the hurting. The darkness will rise from the inside, and will, in its misguided justice, unite and bring about the fall of the golden.**_ **

You could understand it many ways, but the word ‘destroy’ had never been used; thou if it had the same meaning could be discussed; either way Albion had to be created before anything else, and the power unleashed did just that.

The power lighted the whole clearing up and engulfed all the persons in the middle. Strangely it didn’t blind the two awake, but instead seemed to open up and increase their senses. It seeped into the fallen and healed the wounds and wove its way to still king. It drew from the remaining life-forces of the magical beings, and began to work it wonders.

For the first time in many years Merlin was completely at peace; all fears and worries had disappeared, and even while he could feel the magic slowly draining his energy and his eyelids growing heavy; he couldn’t care any less. He felt like he was floating, like he wasn’t in his own body, but connected to the earth; floating in everything and nothing. It was wonderful, happiness, bliss, _pure magic_.

Slowly, very slowly, after what could have been either mere minuets or many hours; the light disappeared. His awareness started to return, and even if he no longer felt any anger or pain, he felt hollow without the light. He tried to reach out with his magical-senses to drag it back, and that’s when he discovered it.

He had to check to make sure it was right.

It was.

He took one deep, shaky breath as tears started to fall for the third time since the reveal that now seemed like years before.

Two things had happened.

Firstly; Morgana had apparently disappeared. Disappeared; there but not dead; of that he was sure. Like with Arthur he was sure he would have felt it if she was. They shared a close bond, torn and dirty; but a special bond none the less. He could feel her presence, but it was like it was only halfway connected to the world, like the other half was in another world, which he couldn’t reach.

Which led to the second thing; her ‘other half’; it wasn’t really _her_ , more like her life-force or ‘right to live’, and as he thought about it, it all started to make sense. It shouldn’t, because lying dazed, but breathing; alive, was none other than King Prat himself.

To save a life a life had to be given; but this time magic had found a way around the rule, bending it a little. Arthur had been given his life back, but instead of taking Merlin’s, Morgana’s or someone’s else’s life; it had ‘borrowed’ it; thereby fulfilling a part of the prophecy.

As foretold there would come a time when Morgana would rise again, and the time for Arthur to sleep in Avalon would come. Morgana would then be the one connected to the mortal world until she died. Which once again would uphold the balance, until Arthur was needed again, and he would be the one to rise when Albion needed it most; rise as The _Once_ and _Future_ King, of cause with Emrys at his site.

Luckily there would go many years before that time, and in that moment Merlin didn’t give the future or prophecy any thought at all; everything he cared for was the person lying breathing before him.

He continued to gaze at him, as the king lowly sat up hand messaging his temples as if he had a headache.

He could hear the others begin to steer too, but he didn’t dare to look away, scared that it wasn’t real and his brother would leave him again.

Arthur slowly turned his head towards him, and for a moment the two most powerful people in history just stared at each other. Affection and promises in their eyes, deeper, stronger and more real than would be possible be spoken with words.

_“Don’t leave me again”_ Merlin whispered.

The king responded just as quietly, “Camelot needs us both of us.”

Merlin could only nod in agreement even as his eyes began to close; he fought to keep them open a little longer. _“’M sorry”_ he mumbled. His eyes closed and sleep began to lay its blanket over him when Arthur whispered into his ear, “ _There are many secrets yet to tell, but right now; sleep.”_

And Merlin let himself get dragged completely into sleep.

It was a new day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Kilgharrah to Merlin on his and Arthur’s ‘relationship’ - season 1 episode 2 “Valiant”  
> **translated from Irish (ca. as it’s from Google translate)
> 
> Criticism is always welcome :)
> 
> Beta: BlackBandit111 - This story was first posted on fanfiction.net
> 
> I don't own the show Merlin and this story is not written to gain any profit.

**Author's Note:**

> Criticism is always welcome :)
> 
> Beta: BlackBandit111 - This story was first posted on fanfiction.net
> 
> I don't own the show Merlin and this story is not written to gain any profit.


End file.
